


Cold Vengeance

by ladyoneill



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Angel Book of Days Challenge, Gen, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-03
Updated: 2003-08-03
Packaged: 2017-10-31 05:02:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/340214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at New Year's AtS Season 5, but the time line is a bit skewed. Everything through the 100th episode has happened and there are mentions of what happened in that episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Vengeance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hiddensky](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=hiddensky).



Blow, blow, thou winter wind, Thou art not so unkind As man's ingratitude; Thy tooth is not so keen, Because thou art not seen, Although thy breath be rude. Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then heigh ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, That dost not bite so nigh As benefits forgot: Though thou the waters warp, Thy sting is not so sharp As friend remember'd not. Heigh ho! sing, heigh ho! unto the green holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then heigh ho, the holly! This life is most jolly.

William Shakespeare

***

He stands at the railing of the mezzanine looking down on his people. They go about their jobs not particularly caring who's in charge of the company. Come winter or summer, there's always business for lawyers, especially those in the business of hell.

His hands rest lightly on the rail, the long fingers cupped around the gleaming wood, and a smile flickers over his face, but his eyes are cold and empty, even when he spies her entering the lobby and crossing the marble floor on those long, silk encased legs. He watches as she climbs the stairs, and admires her sleek navy suit, the high collared white silk blouse. As she joins him, he sees she's wearing a gold choker to cover the scar.

His neck feels strange without a corresponding one.

One of her hands covers his and he feels her unnatural warmth heat his skin. A soft sigh of longing breaks from him. He's not sure he'll ever truly feel warm again.

"Are you a king surveying your subjects?" she murmurs in his ear.

"No, just a boss and employees. I have no desire to rule."

"But you make such a handsome conqueror." She grins at him and slips her fingers through his. "And power is oh so seductive, as we both know."

"It can corrupt only if you let it."

The smile turns to a smirk. "Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that, lover." She slips free of his hand and turns to enter her office, leaving him to ponder her words and the sad truth behind them.

Down in the lobby a janitor pushes a mop past the outer doors, wiping up the melting snow, and he watches, wondering how long the unnatural storm is going to continue. Through the windows he can see the flurries falling against gray sky. The snowfall is light, no longer accumulating more than an inch or two a day.

But, it's been three days, and this is L.A. Even in January, this is unusual.

No one else in the building seems to be worrying, but he's the boss now. All the burden is on his shoulders.

The snow's accumulating in his heart as well.

***

Wesley was awakened by a soft noise, one he instantly recognized as a light footstep. Opening his eyes, he peered cautiously into the dark of his bedroom, his hand sliding soundlessly across the bed for the gun resting on the shelf of his night stand. As his fingers closed around it, the lamp on his dresser came on, and he blinked into the warm glow.

She was back-lit, but he knew that sleek form anywhere.

"Lilah?" he choked out in shock as, without thinking, he pointed the gun at her.

"That's really not going to do anything but make a big mess," she said, dark humor in her voice.

"...What?"

"The gun."

"...Oh." Shaking his head to clear it, he set down the gun and pushed himself up into a sitting position. "What are you doing here, Lilah? I thought...Well, Eve said you'd been retired as our liaison."

"That's a nice way to put it. Since being replaced by that human twit, I've been forced to shuffle papers for an eternity, papers that never go anywhere, never end, and never get the right signatures." As she spoke, she sat on the side of the bed and crossed one stocking footed leg over the other. The rest of her was covered in a pale peach wool suit. There was a trendy silk scarf around her throat.

"I...I don't know what to say, Lilah." Wesley rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. "Why are you here?"

"To the point as...well, you used to be. I'm here to right an injustice." At his blank look, she sighed. "We have to go to Wolfram & Hart. There's something there you need."

"All right," he agreed, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and rising to his feet.

"Oh jeez, they have you in Looney Toons' boxers." Lilah shook her head sadly and stood to go fetch her shoes. "Get dressed, the sooner we get there, the sooner this is all going to make sense."

With troubled eyes Wesley watched her leave the room, then he reached for his trousers and shirt.

Dressed, he picked up his keys and jacket and followed her out of his bedroom. Lilah stood by the entrance to his apartment, a small briefcase in one hand.

"You'll need to drive. My car was repoed due to my semi-death."

On the drive to the office, Wesley tried to question her a couple of times, but Lilah clammed up, simply informing him that all his questions would be answered soon enough. He parked in the executive parking level and they made their way into the building. Once inside, Lilah led the way to one of the many levels of vaults. As she used her master key to let herself inside one of the rooms, Wesley spoke again.

"Wait a moment, I've been here before." He looked around the room lined with cabinets and drawers. "This is where we found Lorne's sleep."

"Lorne gave up his sleep?" Lilah gave him a surprised look. "I can't leave you guys alone for a minute." Setting down her briefcase on a table, she popped it open and removed a large gold key, then she turned to the rows of vaults and moved to one in a far, and oddly dusty corner. Wesley followed her, his curiosity piqued, and watched as she inserted the key into a lock. Everything shimmered, the key glowed, and a drawer slid open. From it, Lilah took a canister and turned to Wesley.

"Are you ready?"

"For what?" he asked, perplexed. He hadn't given anything away or enhanced himself in any way.

Lilah's lips tugged down into a sad frown. "The truth," she stated softly, and twisted off the lid.

Bombarded by thoughts, memories, images, Wesley staggered, gasping for air as his throat constricted. He fell against the wall, eyes wide in shock, as everything came back in one rush. Bile rose into his mouth, and he slid to his knees, retching.

All the while he could feel her oddly compassionate eyes on him.

When the retching faded and he could breathe normally, he jerked his head up, staring wildly at her, and growled, "That son of a bitch." He pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly, still nauseous. "The utter bastard. He raped our minds!"

***

Lilah made him tea while he paced his office, ranting, his anger clear in every hard step, every snort of breath. Finally, she placed two cups on his desk and took a seat in front of it. "You need to sit down."

"I need to rip his heart out."

"Yeah, that'll work." She sipped her tea and watched him, smiling to herself as her Wesley returned with each passing moment. The darkness was back. The darkness she and her superiors needed.

Wesley saw her smile and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why did you do this, Lilah?" Leaning against the desk next to her, he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Orders, Wes."

"And why did HE do it?"

"What was the one thing you forgot?"

"...Connor. What happened to the boy?"

"He's fine. He has a new identity, a new set of memories, a new family. It was the price we paid to get Angel to accept our offer. It never set well with me because it wasn't just Connor he was manipulating, it was all of you. It was you," she stressed.

Wesley nodded slowly, digesting her words. "The one thing I never could understand is why you and I were together. It didn't make any sense. That me never betrayed Angel, never lost him his son. That Wesley had no logical reason to be with you."

"Yeah, that Wesley was boring." Lilah smiled at his sharp look. "This one, oh so much more intriguing. This one, the real one, doesn't bother to stomp down on all that lovely, dark anger."

"And so the next question, is again, why did the Senior Partners want my memory returned?" He finally picked up his tea and sipped it, noting the addition of some good Scotch to it. Just as the old him--the real him--liked it.

Lilah sighed softly. "It's not working out right. Eve was a colossal mistake. Lindsey's attempted coup came out of nowhere. Angel's brooding and balking and Cordelia's brief return shook his resolve. He's questioning his place here, and the Senior Partners are getting tired of dealing with him being such a loose cannon."

"They should have guessed he would react this way."

"Yeah, well, unlike god, they're not infallible. They made a mistake, and now there are hints that Angel may not even be the player in the future apocalypse, that it might be Spike." She shrugged her shoulders. "Whichever, they want him out of the company for now. If it's necessary, they can drag him back in later--hold Connor over his head or something--but right now he's just gumming up the works too much."

"Doing too much good?" Wesley asked snidely.

"He's a hero. Heroes give the firm a bad name. On the other hand, you are a pragmatist."

Wesley stared down at her, then set down his cup with a clatter. "You want me to...do what?"

"Well, not kill him, but do everything else that idiot, MacDonald, tried. Stage a coup. You have the full backing of the Senior Partners. Hell, all you have to do is kick him out of the building and lock the doors behind him," Lilah replied, a benign smile on her face.

"You're insane."

The smile widened into a siren's grin. "Nope."

"Why would I go along with this?"

"Because he hurt you, Wes. He betrayed you completely. He, as you said, raped your mind. Don't you want him to pay for that? Don't you want to kick him out of his ivory tower and see him wallow in the gutter?"

"I'm not that vindictive."

"Oh yes, you are, darling. I know your heart and soul, remember?"

"Interesting, since you have neither."

Laughing, Lilah rose and set down her cup, then slipped between his slightly spread legs and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Oh, I've missed that cutting wit of yours." She kissed him, deepening it as she felt his arms encircle her waist, one hand rising to cup the side of her breast.

"Witch," he murmured against her lips.

"Bitch," she corrected and pushed him back on the desk.

***

It was late morning when Wesley woke for a second time--again in his bedroom, but not alone. They're returned there before dawn, but not to sleep until the sun was well above the eastern horizon. Lilah slept curled next to him, her cheek on one hand, her face turned towards him. She breathed, her body was warm--feverish even--but the scar encircling her neck reminded him that she wasn't alive.

Slipping silently from the bed, he padded into the bathroom and turned on the water in the shower. He bathed quickly, his mind whirling. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, joined now by pain.

He still found it difficult to believe that Angel had done that to him, to them.

Wesley knew it was going to be all too easy to let Lilah convince him to pull the rug out from under the vampire. He knew that he felt betrayed just enough to do it.

Vengeance might be a dish best served cold, but hot would work just as well for him.

As he stepped out of the shower, he heard music in the other room, and listened to the words sung by a throaty female voice as he toweled off.

I put my hand in my father's glove I run off Where the drifts get deeper Sleeping beauty trips me with a frown I hear a voice "Your must learn to stand up for yourself Cause I can't always be around" He says

Wrapping the towel around his hips, he left the bathroom and found Lilah buttoning her blouse, singing softly along to the radio.

"Where is Connor?"

Startled, she spun around, breaking off her singing. "Huh?"

"The song made me think of him, how he's been betrayed by his father."

"He has a new and good life, Wes."

"But it wasn't of his choosing. Angel took the easy way out. Connor is seriously screwed up, but Wolfram & Hart surely has the resources to keep him out jail, get him the psychiatric help he needs, do whatever else they can for him. Wiping it all away was too damn easy."

"I agree."

"It will all have to be dealt with once we've taken control. I assume everyone else's memories are in that vault as well?" At her nod, he continued, "First thing we do is restore Gunn and Fred. We'll keep Lorne out of it for now."

"You think you can trust them?"

"Fred barely remembers she loved Gunn, and Gunn barely remembers his street fighting days. I'm thinking that's due to the mind wiping. God knows what else was fucked up."

"Okay, boss. We have three days."

"Now you tell me there's a timetable?" He glared at her as he whipped off the towel and ran it over his wet hair.

Lilah's eyebrows rose in appreciation. "We kind of got busy last night." At his look, she smirked and continued, "New Year's at midnight. Sweeping out the old, bringing in the new. It's all terribly symbolic, the end of a regime and all that, and heralding the coming light and dawn and Spring and, you know it's mostly nonsense, but there's supposed to be some kind of event at exactly midnight that will be beneficial to us."

"Is that midnight pacific time or Greenwich mean time?" he asked, a tad facetiously, making Lilah chuckle.

***

They convened in Wesley's office at half past eleven on New Year's Eve. With Cordelia's recent death, no one had been in the mood to have a party, so excuses to stay home were easily believed. Fred and Gunn walked into the room dressed in jeans and dark shirts under dark jackets. No longer the flighty yet geeky scientist with few cares outside her lab, Fred carried the stun gun she'd once used on Connor. Her dark eyes burned with barely hidden frustration, especially when she looked at Gunn. Wesley knew that while they'd been apart when the mind wipe had occurred, with the whole Jasmine business they'd never had time to find a proper end to their relationship.

Gunn had shaved his head, and while Fred's eyes were full of frustration, his burned with anger. So much of him had been lost, and the steps he'd taken to fill the gaps within himself may have doomed him. That would have to be dealt with soon enough. Until then, his anger was feeding him.

They were a family and one member had betrayed the others. Wesley knew all too well how that felt, how the betrayed felt towards the betrayer. It was a bleak anger, as cold as winter's snow, and just as deadly.

None of them could forgive Angel.

As, Wesley knew, Angel had never truly forgiven him.

"Now is the winter of our discontent..." he murmured to himself, feeling the chill inside him. The last three days had gone swiftly, but with each passing moment, he'd felt himself grow colder, harder. The days had been gray and overcast with a lingering chill in the air accompanied by a bitter northern wind. Winter, even a Southern California one, was upon them, and reflected in him.

As first Gunn, then Fred had been restored to their memories, as he'd listened to their anger and feelings of betrayal, as he'd laid out his plan, he'd felt the cold creep into him.

He didn't believe he was wrong. There was no hesitation in him. But, he did wonder if he'd ever feel warm again.

Lilah glanced at her watch, then lifted her eyes to Wesley's face, noting the solemn expression. It wasn't easy to throw aside your scruples, but he was being driven by anger, just as the Senior Partners had predicted. And Angel did deserve this for being a complete prick.

She just didn't like seeing what planning this betrayal had done to Wesley, and couldn't help but wonder what the new year would bring them, and how Wesley would live with himself after overthrowing Angel.

"This will be easy. He trusts us," Wesley began, a hint of sorrow in his voice. "We'll go wish him a Happy New Year."

"Yeah, some happiness," Gunn grunted, pulling the small dart gun out of his jacket pocket to check if it was loaded properly. As Fred started to protest, he waved her off. "No, I know we have to do this and he deserves it. I just don't see any of us enjoying it."

"No. We won't enjoy it," Wesley replied. "But it must be done. Angel must learn he can't manipulate people like this. We are not his puppets."

Fred shook her head, frowning as her eyes glistening. "I still can't believe he hurt us like this." Blinking against the tears, she turned away from them, mumbling, "I thought we meant something to him."

No one had an answer to that.

At five till midnight, the three partners, minus Lilah, filed into Angel's office and into the elevator to his private suite. Wesley punched the button for the penthouse and stared grimly at the closed doors as the elevator rose. One hand was in his pocket, fingers wrapped around the back-up tranquilizer gun.

The doors opened and he exited first. Angel was in the sitting room, reading, and he looked up in surprise. A smile flittered across his lips and he rose to his feet.

"I'm glad you decided to come after all. I know we don't have much to celebrate, but hopefully the coming year will be better."

"Yes. Happy New Year, Angel," Wesley replied cooly.

Angel smiled again and turned towards his bar. "I don't have champagne, but there's a good bottle of Chardonnay I've been saving for a special occasion."

"That...that would be lovely," Fred stammered and moved closer to him. "Let me help you."

The clock on the mantle began to chime as Angel reached for the handle of the mini-refrigerator. At a nod from Wesley, Fred shoved the stun gun against Angel's neck and hit the power button. Angel jerked from the electric current, only his preternatural strength keeping him on his feet. He turned, eyes wide with shock, and was hit by Gunn's tranquilizer.

As he slipped to the floor, he managed one question, "Why?" before unconsciousness took him.

The clock chimed twelve and the wind pounded against the windows. No longer able to look at her former friend crumpled on the floor, Fred was the first to look in that direction, and she gasped. "It's snowing."

"Interesting."

"Freaky," Gunn added. "Legs or head?"

Crouching down, Wesley divested Angel of his keys and tossed them negligently aside. "I'll take his feet." As the two picked up the limp vampire and carried him to the elevator, Wesley realized he felt as cold as ice.

***

They dumped him in the snow in the front courtyard.

"Are you sure he'll wake up before sunrise?" Fred asked, worried, her arms wrapped around herself as snow dusted her hair.

Gunn slipped his arm around her and led her back inside. "Yeah, that tranq will only last about two hours."

"Which gives us plenty of time to change the pass codes and rekey the locks, though..." As they entered the building, Wesley saw Lilah directing several security specialists, "I think that's well in hand."

"Smoothly done, boss," Lilah congratulated him.

"It's always easy to betray those who trust you most," he replied, his voice cool and empty. Taking her hand, he led her upstairs.

***

Wesley and Lilah made their way to the front conference room which was directly above the spot where Angel lay.

"Snow huh? Weird," she said, perching on the window seat. "Lucky for him he won't freeze."

"He'll be fine." Wesley sat and rested his elbows atop the mahogany table inlaid with antique marble. Clasping his hands, he leaned his chin against them and pondered the future.

"Out with the old, in with the new. You're the new regime, Wes. Whatcha going to do with all that power?"

"Resist its temptation."

She snorted and looked back out the window. "You'd think the big event would be an earthquake or tidal wave or something, not a little snow."

"Snow is highly symbolic where Angel's concerned. It stopped him from killing himself several years ago on Christmas morning. And now here on New Year's Day, it signals his downfall." He thought about it for a moment. "One was the Powers that Be saving him. One is the Senior Partners punishing him. Yes, the symbolism means something."

"Something you can look up tomorrow, Wes." She gave him a compassionate look. "You've hardly slept in days."

"I'll sleep when he wakes up and leaves."

***

Angel awoke slowly, the drugs still in his system, his body aching from the electrical shocks. He pushed himself up on his hands and gaped down at the inch of snow upon which he lay. Glancing up, he confirmed that he was still in L.A., but somehow he'd ended up outside Wolfram & Hart. As he rose on unsteady legs, the memory returned painfully, and he gasped.

"Why?" he whispered, a haunted look in his eyes. As he stood up straight, a photograph fluttered from where it had been loosely tucked into his shirt pocket. He stooped to pick it up, and his heart broke.

It was a picture of his son, caught in an unguarded moment by Fred before Cordelia had ascended, before Connor had buried him beneath the ocean, before Jasmine.

They remembered.

***

Wesley lay on his back, unable to sleep. He was alone, having sent Lilah to his apartment. He'd needed to be alone, to contemplate all he'd done.

He'd destroyed his dearest friend, and, yet, he couldn't muster the compassion to truly care. His heart was frozen over and he could almost feel the ice crystals forming on his eye lashes.

Sighing at his internal melodrama, he slipped from the bed and wandered over to the windows. The decorators had completely redone Angel's penthouse in four hours. Where modern furniture and dark woods had been, now was good English oak and classic lines. Settling in a comfortable wing back chair next to the window, he pulled aside the velvet curtains and peered out. It was past dawn, but the sky was still gray, the snow still falling.

All part of the design, Lilah had explained. The snow would wash away the sins of the old year, bring about something clean and new. It would all lead to Spring and rebirth and the return of Connor. Although Lilah had been remarkably close-lipped about the boy, Wesley knew he had some role to play in the future. He'd need a lot of working on first, though.

As he looked across the city, he wondered how much of a fight Angel would put up. On regaining consciousness, Angel had approached the doors. Wesley had gone down to him, communicated with him via the intercom. There had been a lot of shouting at first and then grim quiet fury. Finally, as dawn lit the horizon, Angel had given up and slipped away. He'd looked beaten. Wesley had never seen him look so bad.

Amongst the shouting and cursing, he'd piled the blame on Angel's shoulders. To his credit, Angel had taken it all with no real protest, and for a moment Wesley had wondered if the Senior Partners had underestimated the toll it would take on the vampire. Would he simply give up and walk into the sun?

As he remembered the way that had made him feel, if only for a moment, he shoved aside the lingering guilt and murmured, "Well, there's always Spike to fall back on."

***

With a sigh of determination, he turns from the railing and walks into his new office. The reports on the mystical snow are in from the science department, the contracts are there to be signed giving him control of Wolfram & Hart, his tea is hot and fresh on the corner of his desk, a piece of homemade shortbread next to it.

It's not only a new year, but a new world.

Sitting behind the big desk, he reaches for his tea and biscuit and smiles. He'll give it a week or two, play the game, then start using Lilah the way she's used him. He doesn't trust her as far as he can throw her. He's not that fool anymore. There's something else going on behind the ouster of Angel.

It's time to find out what the Senior Partners are really up to.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for HiddenSky in the Angel Book of Days Summer Challenge. Prompt: Wesley, Genre ~Dark ~ Wesley gains control of W&H ~ No Slash
> 
> Author's notes ~ This was interesting--I hope it is to all of you, too. I never would have written this without the challenge, but it was very enjoyable to write. The song lyrics in the fic are from "Winter" by Tori Amos. There's also, along with the poem at the beginning, a quote from "Richard III" by William Shakespeare. To HiddenSky, I'm sorry it got a bit shippy in places. Using Lilah made sense to me. The focus is mostly on Wesley, though, and I hope it's dark enough.


End file.
